The vibrant bloom is drooping
And my pulse is charged with grief
As I see the quiet workings
Of a stealthy, subtle thief
As sure as spring turns into summer
And the summer turns to fall
Is the fair and fleeting favor
Of life’s youthful madrigal
Soon its eager glow is ravaged
By the pilferage of time
Soon the bud of blossomed beauty
Succumbs to the season’s rhyme
And the flower weeps its petals
Back to earth from whence it came
Leaving nothing but its memory
And the whisper of its name
Yes, the vibrant bloom is drooping
Man cannot dissuade the course
Or design of nature’s order
Nor the Hand beneath its force
To everything there is a season
And a time for every plan
We cannot thwart God’s perfect reason
For we are simply…man
© Janet Martin
I noticed that the peonies are beginning to die and something akin to grief stirred in me to realize another year of peonies is quickly passing...
Isa.55:8-13 “For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways,”
declares the Lord.
9 “As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.
10 As the rain and the snow
come down from heaven,
and do not return to it
without watering the earth
and making it bud and flourish,
so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,
11 so is my word that goes out from my mouth:
It will not return to me empty,
but will accomplish what I desire
and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.
12 You will go
out in joy
and be led forth in peace;
the mountains and hills
will burst into song before you,
and all the trees of the field
will clap their hands.
13 Instead of
the thornbush will grow the juniper,
and instead of briers the myrtle will grow.
This will be for the Lord’s
renown,
for an everlasting sign,
that will endure forever.”
